Just Keep Moving
by Apples Who Dance With Oranges
Summary: A young Army Corporal and his canine companion are the few left after the outbreak. Trying to follow his own morally right path he struggles to deal with both of the living and the dead, while trying to find some sort of sanity in a world that has gone to hell.


The sun rained down upon the old dirt road as the young faced twenty year old man slowly made his way down it, his hazel green eyes weakly starring at his surroundings as they struggled to stay open. His eye lids becoming heavier every minute of the day, every step forward making his body scream out in pain, it was obvious he was pushing himself beyond his limit to keep moving on.

The twenty year old uniformed man wore a pair of dirt stained boots that had dry blood stained all across the edges of it, he wore a pair of digital ACU military field pants that were lightly dusted with dirt, he wore a black utility belt with a black sidearm holster strapped around his upper right thigh with a Beretta M9 securely tucked into the holster, he wore a sandy colored t-shirt, and had a ACU patrol cap with the rank insignia of a Corporal on it. His skin was lightly tanned and he had short chocolate brown hair hidden by his patrol cap. He had a digital camouflage backpack on and was carrying a black, Mossberg 500 shotgun, casually slung over his shoulder.

"Chief, lets go!"

Emerging from a small ditch on the side of the road came a brown and black German Shepard, his tongue hanging from his mouth as he happily raced at his handler's side. The young army corporal rubbed the dog's head forcefully as his canine companion barked lowly in joy at the sign of affection. The two continued their journey down the dirt road in silence as the country side of, Georgia. The corporal hummed lowly to himself as he took a gulp of water from a his canteen and then poured some into his cupped hand, allowing Chief to lick from his hand.

_Grrrrrrrrrrr_

Chief snarled lowly as he revealed his row of razor sharp teeth, his eyes darting at the end of the road which split into two. Slowly, stumbling around were three blood soaked figures, low moans escaping their blood covered lips. The corporal sighed heavily upon seeing this as he petted Chief on the head gently, awarding him for detecting the danger before it got to close.

"I could go around them, but I should take them out before they become someone else's problem," The corporal sighed as he pulled a old construction hammer from the side pocket of his backpack. Signaling Chief to stay where he stood and watch his back he approached the three stumbling strangers. Chief yawned loudly as he faced his back towards his handler and watched the opposite side of the road.

The corporal made his way towards the first lifeless figure who hadn't even noticed the living man, but before the figure could even release its usual moan the corporal dug the hammer deep into its decomposing head. With great force the body hit the ground with a bloody hole in the back of his head. The other two quickly turned to face the army corporal and began to slowly make their way towards him.

The corporal sprung forward landing a firm front kick to the incoming attacker, slamming his boot against the attacker's torso he pinned it to the ground under his boot. Raising his hammer high into the air he slammed it into the forehead of the attacker, as if it was like an execution. The third and last remaining blood soaked zombie never even reached the corporal as it was quickly taken to the ground by Chief, who pulled the leg of its pants and brought to face down in the dirt. Grinning the corporal spun the hammer in his hand and finished the zombie.

"Damn, Creepers."

The corporal wiped the hammer off on one of the zombies' shirts and slid it back into his backpack's side pocket. His mind drifted back to the earlier days of the outbreak where his first kill with a melee weapon resulted in him throwing up out of disgust. Now, he was wandering the Earth all alone with Chief, finishing off the grim reaper's job as if it was nothing.

He hated it.

* * *

The sun was slowly disappearing behind the green tree top that resembled clouds in the distance, as a pretty orange blanket took over the once baby blue sky. The corporal sighed lowly as his eyes fell upon a old farm house located at the side of the road. He had been watching it for what seemed like an hour by now, trying to determined if he should secure it for the night, or keep moving in hopes he'd find another.

It was getting late and he needed shelter as he hated traveling at dark, it wasn't to big so securing it by himself wouldn't be hard, and it probably had supplies he could use.

But...

It was close by the road and could be easily spotted by zombies, it was small and gave the zombies the advantage to jump him around any corner, and morally he was unsure as to how he felt breaking into someone's house. There might of been very few people left in the world, but the young corporal was still trying to keep some morals.

_Grrrrrrrrrr_

Chief growled lowly as several zombies made their way down the road, unaware of the corporal's position... For now.

It was decided he'd take the house tonight.

* * *

The back door was ripped from the hinges as mighty military issued boot slammed into it with great force, the uniformed corporal storming into the back kitchen with his shotgun aimed forward. Slowly, scanning the kitchen through the iron sights of his gun he relaxed his muscles slightly upon seeing that everything was cleared. Whistling lowly he called Chief into the house, the German Shepard happily claiming a spot near the kitchen table.

The corporal decided to use his shotgun instead of his hammer, as he didn't want to get jumped by a hidden zombie while trying to take another one in close quarters. It might of been loud, but it was his safest decision at the time.

Chief quickly noticed a cabinet open and couldn't help, but notice the open boxes of food in it.

"Lass es," The corporal spat lowly as he had just given Chief a command in German, which was the main language of commands he had been taught in. Chief lowered his head in disappointment upon hearing the command.

The corporal held his breath as he entered the living room slowly, his shotgun raised up to his shoulder was again as he concluded that there was no one inside the area. Making his way through the dinning room he found nothing, except for several smashed dinner plates on the floor. Obviously, something had gone down in the house.

"Now, upstairs," The corporal muttered lowly as he stepped onto the olden wooden stairs and upon applying pressure, a loud creaking sound filled the air. Gulping lowly he made his way up the old beat up stairs, the family who had once lived in the house had given the stairs its fair share of beatings. Making his way upstairs his eyes scanned the main hallway carefully, nothing but a few children toys scattered the floor, "Hello?"

Nothing.

Not even a zombified moan.

He hated this part.

Entering the first room he found nothing as he searched the piles of kid toys, but there was no signs of life... or death in this case. Moving on he searched three more rooms that appeared to be storage rooms and guest rooms, but there was nothing that needed to be shot in there. Just extra bed sheets and some old clothing. Finally, the last room.

Placing his hand upon the door knob he noticed that it was locked and that's when his stomach dropped.

If it was locked then someone, or something was probably inside of it.

"Hello?" He called out loudly.

No answer.

He cursed angrily.

Kicking the weakly framed door open his eyes fell upon a bed that had its sheets ripped apart and thrown everywhere. The mirror in the room was shattered into a million pieces and a lamp was broken in half as if it had been used a a weapon at some point. Entering the room his eyes fell upon two doors, approaching the farthest one he touched the door knob. His hands shaking as he turned it. Pushing it open he jumped back, but there was nothing in the closet but clothes.

He sighed with relief.

Now, the next door.

Expecting the same thing as the closet he opened the door in a more aggressive manner, but he was wrong. He was DEAD wrong.

The room was a bathroom and was stained with blood. The mirror was smashed, the sink was broken so water filled the floor, and the toilet seat had been smashed. What caught his attention the most was the two lifeless bodies that sat in the bathtub bathing in their own blood, a mother and her child. The corporal stumbled back into the room and bent over, his lunch from earlier escaping his mouth upon seeing the blood everywhere. Pulling out his canteen he took a big gulp of water and washed his mouth out.

He had to get out of here.

Closing the door to the blood covered bathroom he suddenly noticed something. The bloody water was moving in the tub, suddenly emerging from it was a middle aged zombified man who had a large chunk of the dead women within his mouth. The corporal jolted back in shock as he quickly fired his shotgun from the hip, the buk shots taking down the zombie but also breaching the tub. The tub's side exploded in pieces and sent a wave of bloody water all over the floor. Slamming the door shut the corporal watched as the bloody water soak the carpet and unable to take anymore he returned to downstairs.

Chief happily waiting for him in the living room.

Now, it was time to lock he house down.


End file.
